


Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a little look into why Thranduil doesn't want Legolas to be with Tauriel. The title is elvish for "my heart weeps until I see you again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham

Thranduil sees her and he remembers. He remembers standing beside his father, Oropher, bracing himself as the black tide rushes toward them, mail clanking and gore darkened swords raised in anger. He remembers losing himself to the rhythm of battle as orc after orc falls at his hand. He remembers the foul smell of tainted blood and the pounding of his own heart that drowned out the unholy wailing of his foe.

The battle of Dagorlad was fierce and even the tirelessness of the elves could not stand against the numbers of the enemy. Thranduil saw his father fall. He shouted and wept as he fought his way to the elf king's side but he was too late. His breath had already left him. Oropher was dead.

Thranduil lost himself for a moment in his grief and when he looked up, an orc stood before him, sneering. He knew he was about to join his father in death. He almost managed to block the first blow. Instead of sinking into his heart it slid along his ribs, opening up his side. Thranduil shouted at the monster, swinging his sword wide and recklessly. The orc laughed and grabbed his sword in one hand, caring little about the blood dripping from his palm, and raised his weapon to strike.

Thranduil closed his eyes, steeling himself against the pain. It did not come. A fine spray of blood misted his face and the orc choked and gurgled and fell, dragging Thranduil to the ground with him.

The weight of the orc rolled away from him and he finally opened his eyes to see a goddess in green standing above him, spattered with blood and chunks of orc flesh, flame colored hair matted and tangled.

"Stay down," she shouted at him. "Put pressure on your wound. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can clear a path."

Maybe it was the blood loss talking but he had never seen a more beautiful sight than this simple silvan elf soldier. She fought like it was a dance but only she knew the steps. When he watched her, he could almost hear the music.

His eyes were closing. His father hadn't warned him that a battlefield would be so cold. He was barely aware of the strong hands that lifted him and carried him away.

When he awoke, he was king of the Greenwood and the tide had been turned. Sauron's armies were on the run. They had been fighting for so long and now, perhaps, hope was in sight.

He returned to the battlefield before he was ready. His first act as king would not be to abandon his people. When he met the orcs in battle, she was at his side, Valadhiel, beautiful and perilous.

For seven long years, she fought beside him as they pushed back the evil that was covering the land. They moved as one. Where his blade faltered, hers was strong and sure and when she stumbled, he stepped in and pulled her back to her feet. In the final battle, they were untouchable. Isildur cut the ring from Sauron's hand and a hush fell over the battlefield. At long last the battle was won. Thranduil and Valadhiel stood among a sea of bodies and made a vow. He would be her king and she would be his queen.

Thranduil loved her. She was his very heart and soul. She loved him too. But she still loved the fight. The orcs were dying out with no leader to organize them. The monsters were afraid and hiding in the darkness. They were no threat to the people. Valadhiel would try to stay, to be the dutiful queen. They were no longer at war. But soon the itch would grow too great and she would follow the battle, farther from Greenwood each time, chasing the adventure. Thranduil feared he was losing her. They reigned for a thousand years and each time she walked away from him, he feared she wouldn't come back.

One day, he begged her not to go. "Come with me," she said. And for one day, Thranduil forgot that he was king and became a soldier again.

"I don't want to lose you," Valadhiel whispered later as they lay under the stars. "I'm sorry that I don't know how to be your queen in peacetime."

"I love you," Thranduil said. "I chose you. I want you."

Valadhiel smiled, tears on her cheeks, and kissed him. "I trust you," she said. "Maybe it's time." She grasped Thranduil's hand and placed it on her abdomen, knowing he could feel it as she allowed potential life to quicken in her womb.

Tears formed in Thranduil's eyes at the beauty of her gift. The stars shone down as they found the rhythm of another dance.

Legolas was born in the year 1045 of the third age. Thranduil doted on his son. He had never been more happy. He had a child and he could finally be sure of Valadhiel's love.

Rumors were whispered that darkness was returning to the forest. Giant spiders were spotted in the trees. Elves were discouraged from wandering isolated paths alone. Valadhiel began to crave the feeling of a sword in her hand

This time, they fought. "You are not a soldier anymore! You are a mother. Would you abandon your child for this fight?"

"Would you make me deny who I am? I love Legolas but I can't breathe in here!"

Legolas toddled over to his mother and grabbed her around the knees, frightened and confused. Valadhiel's face softened when she looked at her son.

"Just one more time," she whispered. "One more time to feel the blood pumping through my veins. Then I'll return and be your mother again." She picked him up and held him close. He nestled into her neck and sighed.

"You could come with me again," she said to Thranduil. "Remember how we fought together. Nothing could hurt us."

"Not this time, Valadhiel. And this will be the last time. If you aren't willing to face that, you might as well not return."

She cried at his words but he would not look at her. He would not watch her go. He would never see her living body again.

"It caught her by surprise," the captain of the guard said when he laid her broken body before the throne. "There was nothing anyone could do. She separated herself from the group and was overwhelmed."

"Leave us," Thranduil spoke, his voice even, his face passive.

The big doors closed and Thranduil wailed. His heart has been torn from his chest. He knew it would be buried with Valadhiel.

Legolas escaped from his nurse and went looking for his father. Thranduil was lost in his grief until he heard his son start to cry. He turned and held his arms out for Legolas to run into them. They shared their grief. For a day and a night they wept and, for the second time in his life, Thranduil made a vow. "My son, you will never know this heartbreak."

Thranduil sees her, Tauriel, and he remembers. She is every bit as beautiful and every bit as perilous. She has the same flame colored hair and abandons herself to battle with the same glint in her eye. She is the first one since Valadhiel's death to make him feel his heartbreak. She is also the first one to make him smile. What scares him is that he sees the same love sick look on Legolas's face that he had seen in the mirror so many thousands of years ago.

He cannot watch it happen again. He has fought so hard since he lost his beloved. He could not let anyone see the hole her passing left inside him. He thinks it might kill him if Legolas too were to love and lose. So he will scare her away. He will forbid the relationship. Perhaps he will deprive his son if his chance at love but he would do anything to make sure Legolas never endures the heartbreak.

Thranduil watches Tauriel as she walks away. A single tear falls on his cold cheek. He remembers.


End file.
